


Forgiveness

by avoidingavoidance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A little, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Referenced violence, Season 2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:11:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9642053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avoidingavoidance/pseuds/avoidingavoidance
Summary: After realizing what he did while he was brain-swished, Hunk withdraws into the start of a hefty guilt spiral. Fortunately, Lance is having none of that shit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HAHA HEY WHAT WHOA WHERE AM I
> 
> i made words and now i'm screaming good luck team

Hunk doesn’t understand the words Lance is shouting at first.

He’s still dazed from being brain-swished or whatever Lance had called it, still a little groggy and not quite with it, so it’s easy for him to believe that Lance is just exaggerating, as he is wont to do sometimes. He would never try to hurt Lance, right? They’re friends. _Good_ friends. On occasion, a little more than that.

He would certainly never try to _kill_ Lance.

Right?

\--

The reality of the situation hits him later that evening, when everyone is exhausted and shaking from lack of sleep, from the drain of adrenaline still being forced out of their systems. 

He remembers suddenly that when he’d snapped out of it, Lance’s expression hadn’t been stretched tight the same telling way it does when he’s beefing up details for the drama. He feels the burn of exertion in his muscles, far more so than he should for theoretically having just been lazing around in the hypnotic company of the mermaid queen. His forearms have bruises that he doesn’t remember, dark shadows of a struggle he can’t quite recall.

Then he sees Lance slugging his way to the showers, limp arms struggling to pull his shirt over his head. More importantly, he sees the deep, angry bruising on Lance’s back, curling around his ribs, winding up his strong, tired shoulders.

They shower the dried sea salt off their bodies in silence, and Lance nearly falls asleep standing under the steaming hot water, but Hunk doesn’t stop trying to scrub the guilt from his skin until it’s flushed and damn near raw.

\--

Lance notices. He rarely notices things that go unspoken, but this is unavoidable even for him.

“Hunk, do you just, like...” Hunk casts a furtive glance up at Lance where he’s slumped in Hunk’s lap, a frown tugging at his thin lips, arms crossed to brace himself against incoming rejection, the third this week. “Do you not wanna do this anymore?”

Hunk fists his hands in his sheets and swallows heavily, unable to hide the guilt coming off him in waves. “I-it’s not you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Lance blurts immediately, throwing his hands in the air. He uses Hunk’s shoulder to push himself off of his lap and to his feet, the movement not entirely gentle.

Hunk can’t stop thinking about the mottled bruises still lurking under Lance’s clothes.

Bruises that he put there.

“Look, if you’re done with _this_ ,” Lance gestures widely between them, “Can you just say it already? Stop stringing me along, man, it’s seriously uncool.”

Hunk’s brow furrows, but he just bites his lip and stares at his knees in silence.

Lance stands there for another long, awkward moment before he stands up straight and crosses his arms again, studying Hunk far too closely to be comfortable. 

“Is it the rock lady?” Lance asks cautiously. “Are you two, like, a _thing_?”

If Hunk wasn’t so bad at it, and if Lance didn’t know all of Hunk’s tells by heart, he would try to lie and say yes. As it is, with all of Lance’s attention burning on his skin, even trying to shrug it off would be impossible.

A dozen other possible lies trip over each other in his chest, but when he opens his mouth, he can’t help the honest, anxious flood that spills out.

“How can you even want to be near me, man?”

Lance’s eyebrows shoot up. “Huh?”

“Lance,” Hunk wheezes, scrubbing his hands down his face with a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried to _kill you_ last week. Like, actually. You still have bruises.”

“Yeah, and?” Lance waves it off like it’s actually nothing, which boggles Hunk’s mind. “You apologized, and you were being mind-controlled by the creepy mermaid soylent green you were stress eating. Not much you could do, dude. It’s fine.”

For some reason, hearing Lance try to brush this off makes Hunk’s blood pressure spike. He shoves himself to his feet and groans loudly, trying to let it out before he boils alive in his own crawling skin, both hands running agitatedly through his hair. “It’s _not_ fine, Lance!” Lance takes a step back to give Hunk room to pace, already knowing exactly the route he’s going to take. He’s still giving Hunk a distinctly unimpressed look, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “How can you possibly say that it’s fine? I don’t even know what I did to you, man, but there’s no way it’s _fine_.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s my call to make, dude.”

Hunk takes a deep breath and rounds on Lance, but he quickly shrivels again under the stern look Lance is giving him. “I just...” Dropping his gaze to his hands, Hunk studies his shaking fingers for a moment before he curls his hands into loose fists, then digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

“Spit it out,” Lance huffs after a long moment, already taking one step closer.

After a long, rattling sigh, Hunk mumbles, “I hate that I can’t even remember what happened.” He drops onto the edge of his bed again, not lifting his head from his hands. “I hate that I lost control like that. I hate that I couldn’t stop myself from hurting you. I-I—” Hunk swallows heavily, still unable to look up at Lance. “I just... thought I was stronger than this.”

For a long moment, Lance just studies Hunk, undoubtedly noticing the way his broad shoulders shake, the way he’s struggling to keep his breath even, trying and failing to keep himself from crying.

“Okay,” Lance finally murmurs, taking another step closer. “That’s fair. But now I’m gonna tell you how _I_ feel.”

Cool, slender fingers slide around Hunk’s wrists then, gently pulling his hands away from his face, and once he’s made room for himself, Lance climbs back into Hunk’s lap like he belongs there. Hunk blinks up at him, his vision watery, and Lance holds eye contact while he brings Hunk’s knuckles to his lips and presses soft, soothing kisses there.

“L-Lance—”

“Still my turn,” Lance interrupts, ignoring the frown Hunk gives him in favor of nuzzling into the wide palm of his still-shaking hand. 

Rather than use his words just yet, Lance lets his eyes slide closed as he brushes more kisses along Hunk’s hands, his knuckles, his wrists, giving both hands far too much attention before dragging his lips along the fading bruises on Hunk’s forearms. Hunk wants to protest again, wants to squirm away from Lance’s attention, but Lance’s soft hums interrupt him before he can start every time.

Once he’s decided that he’s finished, Lance sits up straight again and pulls Hunk’s hands behind himself, firmly wrapping himself in Hunk’s embrace. “Look, dude,” he starts, slinging his own arms over Hunk’s shoulders and leaning into him. “I’m not gonna lie, it was scary as hell while it was happening. You’re a beefy dude.”

Hunk feels the burn of tears in his eyes again, and he tries to rip his arms from around Lance, to pull himself a safe distance away, but Lance frowns at him and just scoots closer. “Stop squirming, would you? I’m trying to make a point here.” Lance presses a loud, obnoxious kiss to the round tip of Hunk’s nose, then announces, “The point I’m trying to make is that I’m not scared of _you_.”

“ _How_?” Hunk can’t help the incredulous pitch to his voice. “You were fully aware the whole time! _You_ remember, how are you not scared of me?”

“Because I _know_ you, dumbass!” Huffing loudly, Lance tilts his head back and groans dramatically. “Dude, how long have we known each other now? How many years have you been putting up with my dumb ass? You’ve never given me reason to be scared of you, why the hell would I start now?”

“Things are different! I _hurt_ you!”

“So?!” Lance grabs Hunk’s cheeks in his hands and rattles him a little, his frustration clearly growing. “Yeah, whatever, you threw me around a little. So I have some bruises. You know what else gives me bruises? Fucking _forming Voltron_. Turning into a leg kinda throws me around Blue’s cockpit, in case you haven’t noticed. I always have bruises on my thighs and shit from knocking into the thrusters, and from the seat belts, and whatever else we’re doing. You think I’m gonna stop forming Voltron because it hurts a little?”

“Dude, I appreciate your comparison,” Hunk deadpans, “But the two are radically different things.”

“Don’t be an ass, Hunk,” Lance snaps in reply, smooshing Hunk’s cheeks harder. “Okay, so the two things are different, whatever. Do I look like fucking Hemingway to you?” He releases Hunk’s face with a loud sigh, throwing his hands up again. “Yeah, I was aware the whole time. Yeah, I sort of remember what happened. But dude, that wasn’t _you_. That was the hypno-worm thing talking. It would’ve been sweet if you had snapped out of it, sure, but things aren’t ever that easy. That thing wouldn’t have brain-swished an entire _kingdom_ if it was that easy.”

“Okay, well,” Hunk starts, but he comes up completely short on reasonable retorts.

“Yeah, uh-huh.” Lance scoots himself further into Hunk’s lap, pressing them together easily as he tugs Hunk’s arms back around his waist. “I know you, man. I know you would never hurt me if you had the choice. I mean, you barely even wanna get rough with me in bed, even when I beg.” Hunk flushes hot at that, his face pulling into an embarrassed grimace. “So no, I’m not scared of you, and I’m not worried about it happening again. I’m not traumatized or anything. Not a single nightmare about it, cross my heart.” Pausing for breath, Lance slouches slightly and considers Hunk for a moment. “I don’t want you to be scared of it either.”

“I’m scared of everything, dude,” Hunk replies miserably, his fingers twisting anxiously in the hem of Lance’s shirt.

“Oh, I know.” Chuckling softly, Lance leans in with a crooked grin and nudges his nose against Hunk’s. “But not when it counts, my man. I know I can rely on you.”

Hunk sighs slowly and lets his eyes slide closed, but after a moment he lets himself carefully gather Lance closer, craving more of his soothing affection. Lance gives it easily, wrapping his arms around Hunk’s neck and pressing soft, easy kisses over his temple and into his messy hair.

“I really am sorry, Lance,” Hunk breathes, ducking his face into the crook of Lance’s long neck.

“I know, babe,” Lance hums, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I really do forgive you.”

Hunk believes him, he does, but he and Lance both know that it’ll take a little time for Hunk to forgive himself.

For now, he starts making up for it by pressing Lance gently to his sheets and kissing every inch of every bruise he can find, all along his ribs and his thighs and down the tight curve of his spine, and Lance somehow dredges up the patience to let him take his time, just this once.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](http://avoidingavoidance.tumblr.com) and a [twittr](http://twitter.com/gaarbage)


End file.
